I Promise
by vcbxnzm21
Summary: After the war Harry Potter's life fell apart around him. Now all he wants to do is end his own life. But Draco is not going to let that happen. *Rated T for cutting and attempted suicide. May be a trigger for some! Read at your own will!*


**AN: My entry for the Fanfic Quidditch Comp - Round 4! I hope that y'all enjoy and please remember to review! Also good luck to all the other quidditch players out there! **

**My prompts: Danger, Addicted, and "Didn't we have fun though?"**

***This story may be a trigger for some! If you can't handle it please don't read!***

"Harry, are you alright?" someone asked me as they walked into my bedroom. I was curled in a ball under my blankets but when I heard his voice my body loosened and I looked over at him. I thought about how I had ended up in this situation.

After the war my life had been a wreck. I distanced myself from everyone I cared about. Ginny resented me for it. She thought that we would have been closer than ever after what we had been through, but we were further apart. She broke up with me after only a week. Ron and Hermione were worried about me. Every time I got one of their owls I could see it. I was shocked that they still even kept in touch after the hell I put them through. I would occasionally get an owl from Andromeda about Teddy. She would even send pictures every once in a while. But besides that I heard from no one.

That wasn't a shock to me though. I knew that everyone would hate me after the war. But it wasn't just wannabe Death Eaters and press people. It was families of the people who had been killed. It was people who blamed me for everything. It was the entire world.

I couldn't find anywhere to stay. Molly Weasley had demanded that I stay at the Burrow but I couldn't go there. I refused to inflict any more pain on them than I already had. That's how I ended up in a flat in the middle of Muggle London. The noise on the street below was nice to block out my thoughts and the place was great if I didn't want to be found, and I didn't.

Until he showed up. Ron and Hermione had been urging me to get out of the house but I refused. I figured that they were the ones that had given him my address. He had showed up out of the blue one my doorstep asking for a place to stay. That was almost a month ago. It was strange to let him into the place I considered home but it was nice to have someone there, but I would never admit it to anyone but myself.

I shook my head as I came

out of my thoughts. I refused to look into his stormy grey eyes as I shrugged my shoulders answering his question. I knew that if I did everything would come tumbling down around me.

"Harry look at me," that voice demanded.

I sat up in bed. I looked at my wrists and pulled down the sleeves of the jumper I wore.

"Harry."

I glanced up at the tone of his voice. "Draco," I whispered back.

"You've barely moved all day. Is something wrong?"

I wanted to tell him the truth but I couldn't. I wasn't going to burden anyone else with any of problems. I could handle them on my own and I knew exactly how. I opened my mouth to say something then quickly shut it. I looked away from him once again.

I heard him sigh and then retreat down the hall. Once I knew that he was a safe distance away I reached under my mattress. My hand curled around the cold object and I pulled it out.

I stared at the razor blade in my hand for a good minute before slowly standing. The walk to the bathroom seemed much slower than normal.

Once I reached the door I flipped the light on. I walked in and stood in front of the mirror. The man looking back at me was one I was all too familiar with. He was stick thin, had pale skin, haunted green eyes with dark bags under them, and an utterly defeated look to him. I knew that this man was me but I had no idea just how bad it had gotten. Just another thing to add to the list of why I was doing this.

I closed the door and locked it before I rolled my sleeve up to my elbow. About fifty little white scars stared up at me. They started at my wrist and went all the way up to my elbow.

I pressed the razor blade to the skin just above my wrist. I hadn't cut there in a while so why not?

I just let the blade sit there for a moment. Then I pressed down. I drew it across my skin. I gasped as the familiar burn seared across the cut. I removed the blade and looked at the small line of blood. It was one of many that I would create that time.

There was one for every death I had caused in the war, one for every person who had lost a loved one due to me, one for every person's life I had ruined, and more than I could count for being useless, worthless, and more than nothing after the war.

By the time I was done my entire arm was a bleeding red mess. Cut after cut was littered across the skin from my wrist to elbow.

The sad thing though, I knew that I deserved every single one of them. That's when I figured it out.

I was addicted to the pain I caused. I was addicted to being in pain. I was addicted to something that could only make me hate myself more. But there was another question. Was I addicted to the danger of it? Was I addicted to thought of getting caught?

I knew then that I had to push away the last person who held me to this hellhole of a life. Myself.

There was a knock on the door and then, "Harry?"

"What?" I snapped back clutching the sink. If I was going to do it, I was going to do it now.

"Can I come in?"

I looked at the bloody knife in my hand and then my bleeding arm. "No," I replied. "Stay away from me."

There was a pause. I could almost hear Draco thinking. "Harry I'm going to come in." The doorknob jiggled.

"No!" I practically shouted. I changed my position so that I was leaning against the door. I refused to let him see me like this. My vision became blurry. Soon I was sobbing and I had no idea why. I let my back slide down the wood door. "No," I choked out.

I felt the door open behind me. I had forgotten that it opened outward not inward. I drew my arm into myself. I knew that it would stain my jumper but that was the least of my worries.

"Harry." The word came out like a mix of a gasp and sigh of relief.

I looked up into those grey eyes and choked out, "Draco."

Draco kneeled next to me. He quickly gathered me into his arms and lifted me from the ground. It was no surprise that he was able to easily lift me. I had barely eaten a meal a day since the end of the war.

I said nothing as he carried me to the fireplace and flooed us to a hospital.

Soon after that I black out.

* * *

I slowly opened my eyes and looked around. Everything around me was white. I had been in the hospital wing at school enough to figure out that I was in a muggle hospital, but I couldn't remember how I had gotten there.

"Harry," someone sighed out walking into the room.

"Draco," I said meeting his eyes. I could see the relief in them. There was also something that I had rarely seen in his eyes. It was fear. "Why am I here?"

"You don't remember do you?" he asked sitting down in a chair next to my bed. I shook my head. He grabbed my arm and unwrapped the heavy bandages from around it.

I stared at the angry red lines on my skin. There were so many it was hard to believe that I had actually survived. I looked up at Draco and realized why he was afraid. He was scared of losing me. I looked back down at my arm not saying anything.

"Why?" the man sitting across from asked.

"What?" I asked looking up once again.

Draco took a deep breath and asked, "Why the hell did you do it?"

I looked down at my arm then at the white sheet covering me. I was silent for a while, not knowing what to say.

"Harry, don't you realize how many people care about you, how many people are willing to do anything to help you? Why didn't you get help?" Draco tried again.

"I deserved it," I whispered. I looked up at him and said, "All those peoples' lives ruined by me. This is the least I could do!" I grabbed my arm and squeezed. Blood started to flow again.

Draco reacted quicker than I thought he would. He stood and pulled my arms away from each other. "What the hell are you doing?" he screamed at me.

"Why didn't you let me die?!" I screamed back trying to free myself. "I deserve to die!" Draco was now straddling me on the bed, pinning me down so that I couldn't move.

"Don't you dare leave me!" Draco screamed back. I stopped moving to listen to what he was going to say next. "There only reason I'm here is because of you. You saved my life and now I'm gonna save yours no matter what it takes!"

I stared at the man above me. I had no idea. "I-I didn't know," I stammered.

Draco leaned back releasing my arms. "Of course you didn't. No one knew you idiot. You think that you're the only one who can hide scars?"

I watched as he rolled his sleeve up showing me the white scars marring his skin. Most of them were over the place where the Dark Mark would have been. I looked from his arm to his eyes as he started to talk.

"It started sixth year and continued well after he war. It was only after your friends found me that they realized you had the same look to you. They thought that I would be able to help you. You had saved my life back at the battle so I decided that I was going to save yours. That's how I ended up at your flat."

I was silent as I thought about it. He was right though. When he first had come to the flat he looked so worn out, like he was tired of everything.

"How did you know that I was in danger?" I suddenly asked in a quiet voice.

Draco smirked and said, "You were in the bathroom much too long." I smiled at that. "Plus I saw the razor blade in your hand when you walked there. I knew what you were doing the entire time but I was too scared myself to do anything until I realized that you had been in there for over a half hour."

I was silent again as I thought about the new information. "Why did you bring me here?"

"I figured that you didn't want anyone to know so St. Mungo's was out of the question," he replied.

I fell silent once again. He was weird how much we had in common. Not only the scars but our way of thinking, acting, understanding. I wasn't the only one who had changed from the war and he wasn't the only one who changed as well. The entire world changed.

Suddenly I said, "Didn't we have fun though?"

"Harry James Potter, if you think that trying to kill yourself and hospital visits are fun, you are one twisted person," Draco said giving me a shocked look.

I just giggled. I realized then that pain medication must be kicking in once again. "Pain meds," I told the blonde man above me. He nodded and climbed out of the bed. I was just starting to fall asleep when I heard his voice once again.

"Promise me one thing Harry," he said. I looked up at him. "If you ever want to do this again come to me. Talk to me about it. I know what it's like. Please never do this to yourself again."

"I promise."

**AN: Well that was a lot more angsty than I thought it was going to be. I also put a lot more of myself in here than I originally intended. Oh well! **

**Anywho please review! **


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